Gorr the God-Butcher is the hero of the story
I have never in my life related to a fictional character so hard as I did to Gorr in the moment when he met his god and found him to be worse than worthless. Gorr's renunciation of his god is exactly what I felt when I renounced mine: If somehow he existed, the bastard accepted my praise but refused my prayers. He accepted my sacrifices but refused my pleas for help. He had the power to fix the shit he fucked up but couldn't be bothered. He made me give up pleasures and endure pains in this life with an empty promise that he'd make up for it in the next. When I asked for mercy, or even acknowledgement of my suffering, the response was contempt and dismissal. If my god had really existed, and had a physical form that could be attacked, I'd have taken the sword and beheaded him too. Gorr is RIGHT. If gods existed that made demands and commandments without ever bothering to help those that needed them: then they would deserve obliteration, not worship. The only way the ...